Birds in Guilded Cages
by aWitchDefiant
Summary: Modern AU. Two very different lives...Arthur is the son of one of the most powerful men in London, heir to a fortune-but money doesn't buy happiness and he is growing desperate. Merlin is a rent boy under the control of the sinister Mr Wong along with the other residents of the Bird Cage Hotel. When they meet sparks fly. But when love is bought and sold, how can they be together?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One-The Bird Cage Hotel**

**This is my first Merlin fic. Unfortunately I got into the show just as it was ending, so I'm hoping people are still reading Merlin fics otherwise this won't be worth my while. I really, really hope they are. I'm gutted I'm only getting into the show now. Warnings: This is a slash fic, if you don't like that don't read it, plain and simple. There will be be swearing, there will be violence and there will definitely be sex. That's why it's rated M. I'm a real angst queen so there will be a LOT of that too. I appreciate comments and constructive criticism but have no time for trolling or bitching. If you don't like the story, go find another to read. Goodness knows there are enough on here. Just don't waste your time and mine being nasty, life's too short. Anyway, let's crack on with the story shall we?**

The insistent bleeping of the mobile phone roused Merlin from a shallow and unsatisfying sleep. He reached for it on the bedside table, scrabbling about blindly before his fingers closed on it, and then sat up and flipped it open. A text message:

**I'M OUTSIDE.**

He rubbed his eyes with a groan as what seemed like a full rhythm section began to pound inside his skull. Too much red wine last night…But then, that hadn't been his choice-Pete was one of those clients who liked to pretend it was a date; dinner, wine, romantic music, and then…. He winced at the burning pain at the top of his left shoulder blade, remembering…_shit…._

A thick arm tightened around his slender waist, crushing him against a hairy chest. Hot breath on his face, lips tickling his ear….

"How about a morning quickie, hmm?"

He ignored the kiss planted on his cheek, too busy constructing the mask once more. When he finally spoke he was what they all wanted again: The cocky, confident little English shit that didn't care. "You only paid me for the night."

"I paid enough." Suddenly the arm tightened even more, catching his arms and pinning them to his sides. A knee was pushed between his thighs, fingers ghosted over his stomach.

"For one night. And that night's over." He wrenched the hand holding the mobile phone free and held it up. "My lift is waiting outside for me. If I'm late there'll be trouble." There was a sigh of irritation and the arm released him. He kicked the sweaty bed-sheets aside and stood up, before turning to look down at the man in the bed. He was middle-aged, over-weight and balding, his hooded blue eyes a mixture of lustful yearning and a deeper sadness for what could have been had he had the courage to live life his way. "Besides, you've got to pick Mia and Oscar up from that sleepover before your wife gets home." He reluctantly let the man pull him into a final kiss, before padding about the room, picking up items of clothing-underwear, jeans, T-shirt, socks- and putting them on as he found them. "You might want to give the place a bit of a tidy too." Finally, he shoved his feet into his converse trainers, shrugged on his hooded jacket, ignoring the stinging burn from his shoulder, and snatched up the pile of fifty pound notes from the nightstand. "Hey Pete, it was, as always, a pleasure…Next time you get rid of the wife for a while, book me, yeah? You have our number."

"Merlin?"

He paused at the bedroom door and turned back. There was a look of trepidation on the man's face, his already wrinkled forehead deeply furrowed with worry. _He wasn't too bad_, he reflected, _not half as bad as many of the other Johns…And not as weird either, no 'specials'. What had happened last night…Well, that had just been the excitement._

"Yes, Pete?"

"How old are you? I mean…"

He almost laughed at that. None of the others had ever asked. "Relax, I'm old enough…Besides, we are the epitome of discretion."

He made to leave again.

"Merlin?"

"Yeah?"

Now the man was wearing an expression of almost fatherly concern, which frightened him more than lust or rage ever had. It was so much easier to pretend he didn't care when nobody else did either. "I want to…I-I mean…This…this job…Were you trafficked?"

The question threw him and suddenly he found himself blinking away tears. He hurriedly arranged his features into a nonchalant grin. "No…No, it wasn't like that." _It had been much more subtle than that…_

"Then how..?"

But he was already out of the bedroom, running down the stairs towards the front door.

He slid into the back seat of the black HGV and slammed the door behind him, almost relieved when the central locking clicked into place. In front of him the driver's window slid open, and he looked up to see Percy, his usual Handler/Driver, watching him from beneath his peaked chauffeurs cap. "The money?" He tugged the wad of notes from his pocket and passed it through, watching as Percy counted it carefully and lifted his radio which crackled to life. "Percy…Yeah, I got him and the fee…a grand, yeah…Should be back in around an hour max, depending on traffic." He hung up and turned in his seat to look at him carefully. "Jesus, you look like shit. Did you take something last night? What did I tell you Merlin, huh? Never get high on a John's supply. You could wake up in a bath of ice with no kidneys or in a box under their bed.

"

"No I didn't take something, I'm not thick. I'm just a little hung over, that's all." He cradled his aching head. Since when had daylight become so damn bright?

"Smart lad. Here, then you'll be needing these."

He passed him a Styrofoam cup and a brown paper bag-Steaming coffee and a sausage roll.

"Cheers."

Merlin curled up in the leather seat and gulped coffee as they pulled out into the London traffic. He knew he was lucky. Not a lot of the others got on with their handlers; some of them were cruel, some even abused their positions and took advantage of their young charges…Not Percy though. He saw his job as being one of carer as well as jailer. He was kind, protective, and Merlin knew that as long as he kept his end of the bargain, was obedient and didn't try to make any breaks for freedom, then Percy would always look after him.

He gazed out through the tinted windows as he ate his sausage roll, watching out for familiar landmarks as they left Primrose hill and began to travel through central London. Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square, The London Eye, Harrods, Buckingham Palace…Even now, after everything that had happened since he'd come to the capital, the sight of them still gave him a thrill. But that thrill began to ebb as they turned onto the wide streets of Chelsea, lined with luxurious white Victorian townhouses. An extremely affluent and prestigious area…and home. After all, the rich still have vices…It's just that they have more expensive taste. Percy turned off King's Road into a narrow half-forgotten street and there it was, looming up to his right…

The Bird Cage Hotel

It consisted of three of the six-floor high white Victorian houses knocked into one. The house to the left was known as the 'Tom House' because it housed the boys and men, the house on the right was the 'Cat House' because it contained the girls and women, and the house in the middle had the dining hall, offices, gym, pool and rooms for entertaining clients. He didn't like it but…it was the only home he had.

Percy pulled into a space in the underground car park and unlocked the car door for him, taking a firm hold of his wrist in the lift on the way up. They were met at the door by more guards, one of whom caught him roughly by the shoulder. The sharp, stinging pain made him yelp.

"Ouch, fucking hell!"

"Oi! Careful!" Percy glared at the guard who shrugged and reached for the scanner on his belt. He caught the hood of Merlin's jacket, tugging it down and waving the scanner over the back of his neck. Merlin waited for the beep before turning to Percy.

"Can I go now?"

"Fine, but go and see Gaius. Get whatever's wrong with your shoulder seen to."

"Will do."

Gaius had always been something of an intriguing mystery to Merlin. A qualified and extremely skilled physician he could have had a glittering career and indeed, considering his old age, possibly had at some point, but now he worked for one of the most powerful and notorious pimps in the city of London…So what the hell had happened? Unlike some of the guards he'd never shown any sort of interest in his young patients beyond pity for their situation, so that wasn't it, and the only addiction he had that Merlin could see was to Earl Grey tea, and so the mystery remained…Just what did Mr Wong have on him? Whatever it was he wasn't telling, not that that stopped Merlin from asking. He jumped the last couple of steps down to the basement and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

The room that served as Gaius 'surgery had once been a storeroom; now it was immaculate, with shelves and cupboards full of equipment and books, filing cabinets containing files full of whatever information he could get from his patients, treatment couches and a row of neat beds separated by screens. The old man looked up from his desk, his wrinkled face creasing into a smile as Merlin entered.

"Merlin." He glanced at the computer screen in front of him before struggling to his feet. "I see you were…working…last night. Man or woman?"

"Man."

"Ah". Gaius nodded sagely. "I see. Did you use protection?"

"Yep."

"And did he…hurt you in any way?"

Merlin caught his meaningful gaze and shook his head. "Not like that. But he did…"

Gaius sighed and motioned for him to come closer to one of the couches. "Right lad, let me see."

Merlin sat down and winced at the burning pain as he tugged his sweatshirt over his head. Gaius stooped to inspect the wound on the point of his shoulder and shook his head in disgust. "He bit you." Merlin nodded. "And he broke the skin. Oh for goodness sake! Mouths are one of the dirtiest things out there!"

He began to clean the teeth marks gently. And Merlin, as usual, tried to fill the silence with questions.

"Gaius, where do you come from? Were you ever married? Do you have children?"

As usual the old man ignored him until his work was finished. Then, he gently squeezed his other shoulder in a gesture of affection.

"There you go. Now stop bothering an old man and go get some sleep. I'm sure you need it." Merlin knew better by now than to argue. Instead he gave Giaus a grateful smile, muttered a thank you and pretended not to notice the sorrow in the old man's eyes as he watched him leave.

The floors of rooms originally frequented by rich holiday makers and businessmen now housed Mr Wongs 'little Birds' as he referred to them, and were probably the only perk. They had to share, but Mr Wong gave them all a small amount of the Hotel's earnings as pocket money and Percy had supervised them on trips into the city centre to buy football and movie posters, and wall-hangings to make it their own. They'd even managed to get a cheap television, Radio and DVD player from Cash-Converters. Merlin stopped in front of room 301-home sweet home. Better than what he'd had before… He barely noticed the dead-bolt on the door with its padlock dangling, he was so used to it by now.

Will's bed was the one nearest the barred window. He didn't get up when Merlin entered, but instead simply lifted the edge of the pillow that lay over his head and gave him a sleepy grin.

"Mornin' slut."

"Mornin' slut." It was their standard greeting. After all, they knew what they were and they didn't have a choice to do anything but own it. Will rolled onto his back, watching him as he made his way toward the bathroom.

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah. John bit me, that's all."

"Shithead."

Once in the bathroom Merlin turned the tap until the water steamed, before stepping into the shower and scrubbing until his skin was red and puckered and all the kisses, and all the touches he hadn't wanted, were washed away. Then he towelled himself down, changed into pyjama bottoms and slid beneath the cool sheets of his bed. Just before he drifted off to sleep he heard Will whisper.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry."

And he replied, as he always did. "It's ok. It wasn't your fault." After all, Will had tried to warn him back then. He just hadn't been paying enough attention….

_It had been a recurrent problem when he'd first come to London; the problem of needing to take a piss while guarding your pack and the doorway you'd found to kip in for the night. That night had been a particularly evil one as well, black as pitch, with a piercing wind that had slapped him in the face with icy drizzle until he was chilled damn near to the bone. Not a night for sleeping out in the open. It'd been a bloody good doorway, he remembered that; down an alleyway a little bit, nice and deep, and out of the wind. He'd been really proud of himself for finding it. So when nature had called he'd dumped his pack and ran like hell to the bushes across the street. He'd only been gone ten minutes, he'd been sure of it, but it had been long enough…By the time he'd gotten back there had been a great hulking shadow in __**his**__doorway, going through __**his**__pack-all he had in the world. And he remembered being so angry at the unfairness of it all…He'd been gone TEN MINUTES for fucks sake! And now this bastard was robbing him blind! He knew he should have walked away- that was what you were meant to do and what he'd wished he done every day since, but he'd been so fucking angry… _

_"OI! YOU!"_

_The figure had twisted to look up at him. Rimy black bloodshot eyes glared up at him through grease- coated ropes of over-long hair. A mean mouth bared teeth stained nicotine brown._

_"Fuck off ya little shithead before I cut yer fuckin' throat!"_

_Again he should have listened, and maybe someone who wasn't quite so desperate would have, but all he could think of was that if he lost that pack-with the stolen food and extra sweater inside and his threadbare sleeping bag strapped on top-then he'd have nothing left and less than the ghost of the chance of surviving the night. Rage coursed through him, a red mist descended, and before he knew what he was doing he had lunged at the hulking figure, tugging at its tattered coat, at its hair, slapping and kicking…._

_"No! No! That's mine! That's mine! YOU DON'T GET TO TAKE THAT! YOU DON'T!"_

_He was dimly aware of the thing shouting at him, just above the pounding in his ears, and then it surged to its feet. Thick fingers, strong as iron, closed over his skinny arm. He hadn't seen the knife, just a quick flash of silver, then a blow to his stomach…_

_Remembering back, he was always amazed that he hadn't felt any pain as the blade went in, just a sudden, breath-taking sense of cold. Then the world tilted and he was choking for breath, the streetlights above blurring in and out of focus. His sweatshirt felt wet…Then there were running footsteps…._

_"WILL! GET BACK HERE!"_

_"HEY! WAIT!"_

_"HOLY SHIT! LOOK, THERE'S BLOOD! Fucker must have stabbed him. Hey, can you hear me?"_

_There were people now…Hot hands on his face…He couldn't focus…Couldn't breathe…_

_"WILL! GET YOUR ARSE BACK HERE!"_

_"HE'S BEEN STABBED!"_

_"Do I look like I give a shit? Just another dead dosser. Come on! NOW! WILL!"_

_Suddenly a boy's face appeared above him, blocking out the stars. He had golden brown hair, freckled cheeks and green eyes that were wide with horror. There was a sharp pressure on his side…And then the pain hit him, flowing over him in a red-hot wave, and he was screaming…._

_"If we do nothing he'll bleed to death! We could bring him to Gaius. You'll be ok mate, I swear, it'll be ok. We know a real doctor; he'll stitch you right up…"_

_"Will, I swear to God if you don't…"_

_"I'M NOT LEAVING HIM TO DIE! So if you don't help him I'll sit here with him until someone else comes past and calls an ambulance, an' with an ambulance there's sure to be police, an' I'll start talking…I'll tell them everything…"_

_"GET OVER HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARD!"_

_Two large hands appeared on the boys shoulders. The boys eyes narrowed and he turned to face someone out of Merlin's hazy line of vision. "Or I'll just scream. I'll scream so fucking loud someone near will ring the filth just to get some peace an' then I'll tell. Or you can help me get him to Gaius. Don't care if you beat the shit outta me after, so long as you help me get him to Gaius." _

_There was a pause, and then a sigh of irritation… "Fine. But you'll pay for this when I get you home."_

_"Don't care."_

_And then there were hands beneath him, the sound of a car revving somewhere in the background, a sudden agonising jerk as he was lifted upwards…And then the world went black._

_The bed had been so soft-the first time he'd slept in a real bed in years. He'd have given anything to sleep on, but the insistent burning ache in his side wouldn't let him. Slowly he became aware of voices._

_"The knife went straight through his side, but missed any organs. He was very lucky."_

_"So he's not gonna die, Gaius?"_

_"No William. As long as we keep the wounds clean he should be fine."_

_"Look, his eyelids are moving…He's waking up!"_

_He had moaned, forcing his eyes open. The light had seemed painfully bright and he'd shut them again. In the background, a door had creaked._

_"Well Gaius, how is your new patient faring?" The voice had been oily, middle class English, but with a foreign edge. A cool finger had stroked across his left cheekbone and he'd opened his eyes. A man's face swam into focus. He was young, in his early thirties and Asian looking, with high sharp cheekbones, dark almond shaped eyes and sallow skin as smooth as alabaster. His hair fell to his shoulders in a blue-black curtain. When he saw Merlin gazing up at him he smiled a crocodiles smile._

_"Well, aren't you handsome?"_

_He'd tried to push himself into a sitting position, had cried out at the pain in his side, and fallen back onto the pillows. The room he was in looked like some sort of hospital ward. An old man with white hair and wearing a doctor's coat stood at the side of the bed, his mouth set in a worried line. In the far corner a vaguely familiar looking boy hovered, staring at him and the Asian man, and shifting from foot to foot uncertainly. _

_"What is your name?"_

_He turned to look again at the Asian man, suddenly panicking in case he'd done something wrong._

_"M-Merlin…I-I don't…W-what happened? What am I doing here?"_

_"Merlin? Really?" He'd nodded, used to the amusement his name often invoked, and the man had chuckled. "Well Merlin, I'm afraid you were attacked. Stabbed, in fact…"_

_"W-what?! I-I don't…"_

_"Shh, shh, it's ok, it's o.k." The Asian man had stroked his hair. "You were lucky. Some of my employees found you in time. My physician has treated you and you'll be fine."_

_"I-I don't…" _

_ The boy in the corner was staring at him intently, as if trying to tell him something._

_"But medical treatment like that is very expensive Merlin."_

_At this he'd turned back to the Asian man whose expression was now gravely serious. Panic flooded through him. _

_"I-I can't pay…I have no money…"_

_"I know. Shh, it's alright." The Asian man had stroked his forehead reassuringly, the very picture of fatherly concern. "I know about your situation. Homeless?" He'd nodded and the man had smiled. "Well then I have a business proposition for you."_

_There was a squeak of alarm from the corner. The boy had stepped forward. "Wait Merlin, don't…"_

_He didn't get to hear the rest of his warning. At the Asian man's nod a well-built man in a suit seemed to emerge from the shadows. He took the boy by the arm and tugged him from the room, a big hand smothering his cries. This should have been warning enough, but he was so tired, so groggy, his vision still blurred at the edges, and everything had seemed so unreal…The Asian man had caught him by the chin and forced him to look at him._

_"You like this nice warm bed Merlin?" He'd nodded. "Well you'll have one just like this, every night. And three square meals a day. You come and work for me and you'll never be hungry again, never be cold again. Of course you'll have to work off what's owed for your medical treatment, but afterwards you'll have money too. Would you like that Merlin?"_

_His voice was honey now, so smooth and so tempting. All Merlin's thoughts had been dulled by pain, he'd just wanted to sleep…And it had all sounded so good. _

_"W-what do I have to...?"_

_"Just be nice to some friends of mine, that's all."_

_Again, alarm bells should have sounded in his brain, he wasn't stupid…But he'd been in so much pain…_

_Somewhere paper had rustled._

_"Stay with me Merlin and I'll take care of you. Go out onto the streets again and those wounds will be infected in no time. You won't last a month."_

_A piece of paper was laid down at his side, not close enough that he could read the typed words, just close enough that he could reach it. A pen was pressed into his hand. And the bed was so soft, and his side ached so much, and he hadn't wanted to go back out there, out into the cold and the rain…_

_"Just write your name Merlin, that's all you have to do."_

_And so he'd signed his life away, just like that, his fingers leaving bloodstains on the pristine white paper._

_Please comment and let me know what you think and if I should continue-reviews feed my muse. I have another chapter halfway written but I need to know people are still reading Merlin fic before I continue on with it._


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, I couldn't wait to put up the next chapter as I'm feeling that old fanfic buzz after a while of writers block and it feels sooo good! Also, forgot to do all the legal stuff...Do not own Merlin or any of the characters, wish I did. Do not steal my work or I will hunt you down. I'm from Belfast, we're scary here.

**Chapter Two-These Our Actors.**

_"Oh, you can't hear me cry,_

_See my dreams all die,_

_From where you're standing,_

_On your own._

_It's so quiet here,_

_And I feel so cold._

_This house no longer feels like home."_

"So you'll come tonight?"

Guinievere gazed up at him, her chocolate brown eyes shining with excitement. "Of course I will!"

"Good. I'll pick you up in the limo at seven. We'll have to arrive early to walk the carpet." He made to move past her towards the waiting car, but she caught his arm and he turned back to look at her.

"I love you, Arthur Pendragon."

_Fuck, he'd actually done it…_He forced a smile as a wave of guilt washed over him. . He'd set out to make her do just that and just one look at her expression, so adoring, told him that he'd been successful. She loved him completely… and he loathed himself for his success, because he didn't-couldn't-ever feel the same. She was a nice person, a good, kind person…And beautiful, so beautiful. But he was twisted, broken, couldn't be fixed…

"I love you too Gwen." He whispered, hating himself for lying to her. After all, it wasn't her fault-she was just a pawn in a game she was to naïve to be even aware of, collateral damage. He lifted her face towards his and kissed her mechanically before holding the car door open for her while she got in and watching it disappear down the avenue.

Back inside the mansion it was dark and cool. He closed the heavy oak front door and slumped miserably against it, rubbing a weary hand over his face. He was beginning to wonder how long he could keep this up…And then his father's voice reverberated around the vast entrance hall reminding him that he didn't have a choice.

"Well done Arthur."

He looked up at the sound of slow clapping. Uther Pendragon stood at the foot of the sweeping oak staircase, his lips pursed in his usual calculating smirk as he narrowed his eyes at his first born son, coolly assessing him for any cracks, any signs of weakness, or worse, defiance. Arthur forced himself to remain expressionless.

"Guinevere is a good choice." His uncle Agravaine, perched on the step above his father like a malevolent black raven hovering at his shoulder. "Mixed race and new money, it's true…But she is very beautiful and her father's company will make a welcome addition to the corporation."

Ah, the corporation; Camelot-the largest corporation in the U.K and worth billions. His family had owned it for generations, handing it down from father to son, each generation adding to its success. One day he would own it…whether he wanted it or not-Although lately he'd began to wonder if they really ran the corporation at all anymore, or if it ran them. Certainly he felt like nothing more than a cog in the machine. Everything for Camelot, his father had always said…Including him…

"I'm glad you approve uncle."

He pushed past them and marched purposefully to his room, conscious of their stares burning between the blades of his shoulders.

Upstairs he slumped amongst the tangled sheets of his unmade bed and stared about his room as if he'd never seen it before. Certainly it seemed like it belonged to someone else. The furniture and wallpaper had been picked by an interior designer from Harrods; the flat-screen, wall-mounted television, computer and sound system were so state of the art that he had no idea how to work them; the designer suits that hung in his wardrobe had been tailored to fit but still made him feel like a little boy playing dress-up in his father's clothes. It made his stomach ache to look at them. Most eighteen year olds didn't even own a suit…But, then, he wasn't most eighteen year olds.

He lay back against the pillows, and tried to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. He'd been having the nightmare again, over and over, always the same one- It was dark, he was in a stone room, tiny, too tiny, so small that he couldn't even stand up properly. Claustrophobia would seize hold of him and he'd panic, hyperventilating, pounding the walls, the roof, searching for a way out…Then he'd see it, a a chink of light in the pitch black, and he'd crawl desperately towards it, calling for help to the person he knew was above him…But just as he reached the small gap the person above would slide the two final stones into place, plunging him into darkness, burying him alive…

He'd wake up screaming. In the past he'd found himself crawling on the floor, he'd even broken windows trying to escape the stone prison from his nightmares. His father's private doctor had diagnosed anxiety and REM sleep disorder and prescribed him beta-blockers and sedatives, but he couldn't bring himself to take them. For some reason he couldn't fathom, they felt like control.

His bedroom door creaked open and he felt his mattress sink under his father's weight as he sat down.

"Honestly Arthur, this room is a tip. I can't fathom why you won't let the maids come and clean it." There was an edge of suspicion to Uther's tone, as if he actually had any secrets left to hide from him. There was no room for privacy in Camelot.

"They hide my things."

"I just wanted to congratulate you again on your fledgling relationship with Gwen. She is the perfect match for you."

"For Camelot, you mean."

"Arthur, don't be petulant." Anger shot through his veins at that. _Petulant!_ He wasn't a _child!_ Above him his father continued. "You'll date her for a year or so, then, before she makes plans for university, you'll propose to her. You'll marry her, and I'll discuss mergers with her father, then you'll take over the corporation when I retire…"

And there it was-his whole life mapped out for him, from cradle to grave, just as it had been the moment his mother had found out she was expecting a son…And God forbid he should think he had any sort of a say in it. He sat up, a sudden surge of hatred giving him courage, making him hiss through his teeth. "Well aren't you just the fucking puppet-master?! Pulling all our strings!"

For a moment he thought his father was going to hit him. Instead he caught him by the back of the neck and pulled him close, pressing his face into his so that he could see the rage in his ice-blue eyes.

"Now you listen to me Arthur, you _will _marry Gwen! I have worked my fingers to the bone to make Camelot what it is, and I will _not _allow you to destroy it! This isn't just about you. It's about your family, the corporation's investors, its workers, _their _families. Reputation in business is _everything_ and I will not let you destroy the impeccable one I and generations of the Pendragon family have built up. You will marry that girl, you will inherit the corporation, and I will do my fucking best to forget that…that unpleasantness from last summer. Am I making myself clear?! WELL?!"

_Last summer…_The mere mention of it made any courage he'd had at that moment dissolve away. If only he hadn't been taken in, if only he hadn't been so stupid, if only he hadn't trusted Oscar-that manipulative, conniving, twisted little bastard, if only…

"WELL?!"

He found himself nodding, his cheeks burning.

"Good." His father released him and stood, turning to throw one last frosty look in his direction. "And Arthur?"

He swallowed. "Yes father?"

"I expect grandchildren. There will be grandchildren, won't there? The survival of Camelot depends on it."

Suddenly he felt so ashamed. He nodded again, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

"Y-yes Father."

"Good. Now, take your medication and get some rest. I know you haven't been sleeping." He lifted his medication and tossed it at him before leaving the room, slamming the door after him with a bang that seemed to echo through the whole house…So cold since she'd died. He hadn't even had the chance to know her…but he missed her. Unlike his father, he knew that she'd never hate him for what had happened, for what he was. He was so exhausted. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to shed all this pain and shame and grief and guilt and just be numb.

Arthur bent to lift the pill bottles where they'd landed on the floor by his feet, rolling them between his fingers and examining the labels. Not for the first time, he thought about taking them all at once.

Ok, so please please leave comments and let me know what you think!


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